


Storm-Savvy

by KiwiKat_Writes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Also for writing angst/fluff/hurt/comfort, Death, Elsia Schooner being a Mom tm, F/M, Foster Parents Being Huge Jerks tm, Gratuitous Hamilton References, Hazbin hotel references, It might get a bit heavy, Memelords, Mentioned Sexual Abuse/Assualt, Multi, Not for anti-LGBTQ+ peeps, Please be nice to meh, S U P E R H E R O E S, SiX: The Musical references, Social Media, Some blood mentions, Texting, This is basically a practice for me to actually stick with a story, Trans Alessander Charlotte, Trans Character, a whole bunch of heathers references too, correction it gonna get a lot heavy, how to tag fics google search, im trying, its supposed to be Tumblr, look in the chapter summary for warnings bc I have no clue what chapters they're in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiKat_Writes/pseuds/KiwiKat_Writes
Summary: Harpy, Gryphon, and Sphynx have been protecting the city for as long as they had their tech. Then, he came. The tiny man, bounding through the city. He fought the same villains they fought, so he was a good guy, right? Even so, Gryphon was nervous about him. After all, who wouldn’t be when confronted with someone who can manipulate the weather, and dissolve into a thundercloud and a flash of lightning?
Relationships: Alessander Charlotte/Elsia Schooner
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Elsia Schooner and her two sisters, Mariah and Anya, were, unfortunately, attending high school. Elsia loved high school, she really did! But it got a tiny bit harder when you’re also the triplet defenders of the city, the Birds of Myth. Herself, Gryphon, was the smarts of the group. Harpy, Anya, was the brawn, and Sphynx, Mariah, was the silent tactician. All three could fight, and all three could sneak, but they were simply their areas of expertise. Plain and simple.  
And then Alessander Charlotte arrived, all the way from the Carribean Islands. As Anya said when he revealed this- dang. The new kid to high school was loud, and Erin, their techie, complained about him being obnoxious. Elsia would agree if she didn’t have a planet-sized crush on him. His mocha brown hair and his eyes like violet sapphires popping out of an olive-skinned face, what wasn’t to love? Of course, through the crush she had, it brought some animosity. She was pretty sure John Lagos, the kind-of ‘bad boy’ of the school and Alessander’s closest friend, was also smitten with the immigrant. He had come in the middle of their junior year, and now it was the beginning of their senior year.  
As one, the sisters swaggered through the school halls, Anya leading in coral, Elsia following on the right in green, and Mariah on Anya’s left in violet. She felt a gaze on her back and turned her head ever-so-slightly to see who it was staring at her. When the violet-blue eyes of a Mr. Alessander Charlotte were what showed in her vision, she gulped and flashed back around. Her face gained a flush. Shyly, she looked back, making eye contact. The boy started, his face getting a peachy flush to it. She waved, smiling sweetly, before turning and putting a little extra sway into her hips as she walked away. Next to her, Anya smirked at her.  
Leaning down, her sister whispered:  
“So, Charlotte eh?” Elsia’s sky blue eyes flashed wide open and she smacked Anya’s arm.  
“Shut up, Anya!” Said sister huffed in laughter, straightening up. Her own ice blue eyes danced in laughter. They kept walking before they reached the intersection where the three separated, Elsia to science, and Mariah and Anya to history. They were learning about the Revolutionary War, and if she heard Mariah, being the theater nerd she was, rant about Alexander Hamilton one more time she might listen to the soundtrack just because her sister loved it so much.

Mechanical wings flashed out at the press of a button, and visors crashed down over their heads. The Kevlar half-skirt, meant to mimic a bird’s tail, was attached to her waist with her utility belt. Her weapons inventory appeared as always on her visor, and she frowned the tiniest bit when she saw her smoke grenades getting low. They had to make more. Shaking the worry aside, she got ready to head into upstate New York. Slipping the hair tie off of her wrist, she tied her hair up into a messy ponytail, some auburn strands streaked with red escaping and framing her face. Next to her, Mariah made sure her signature blonde brown-streaked hair curls were popping out, and Anya was meticulously brushing through her jet black hair, bangs falling over part of her mask. I mean, you gotta fight crime in (somewhat) style, right?  
The three were the sole defenders of New York, so they often each took a third of the city. Elsia was upstate, Anya was downtown, and Mariah took the outside borders. Between the three of them, it was easy to keep crime at a low. The three nodded to each other, exchanging nods and well wishes, before winging away. Elsia was now Gryphon, the Bird of Myth. Her wings spread out, and little engines appeared, helping propel her through the air. The wings were less for actual flight and more to help her stay aloft in the air. The small engines that popped out of the backs of the wings were the things that moved her.  
All too quickly, the Empire State spire appeared and she landed on the helipad. The clouds cracked and rolled, causing a weird feeling in Gryphon’s stomach. In summer there weren’t a lot of thunderstorms, and there had been one the week before. This was unusual. She shook her head, turning her police radio on and settling to wait. It wasn’t a long wait. ‘Police needed- Broadway Street- Winter Garden- break-in-’  
And that was what she was waiting for. A new musical, Beetlejuice, had premiered 2 weeks ago on Broadway, and she was surprised it took this long for something to happen. Jumping off the building, she did a flip before winging it to the theater. As soon as she got near, something happened. Her visor flickered, and the reassuring hum of the communications system connecting her to her sisters went dead. A tiny pressure wave pushed against her. She balked in midair, trying to assess what had happened until she saw a flicker of movement and a familiar set of navy green armor.  
Gryphon kicked herself for forgetting about him. The ‘super’ villain was back. Snapper. All that was known was that he was a younger man, and he had a Southern accent. He was a menacing opponent, and the last time the Birds of Myth beat him back into his shell, it had taken all three of them combined. He had caused catastrophic damage to the major systems of New York, electrical, water, telephone, everything. New York had been completely 1700s era for a week until they had managed to get the systems somewhat working. And still, they had to wait like a month to get everything running well again. And now Gryphon was flying into a fight with him, completely alone. She shook the worries away, taking a deep breath before using the intercom button on her helmet. It projected her voice to about 10 times louder.  
“SNAPPER, COME OUT!” The green set of armor looked up at her, and she was met with the grotesquely smiling, sharp-toothed mask. Landing about 10 feet away, the two stared each other down, Gryphon in a ready-to-fight crouch, Snapper in a relaxed stance.  
“Ah, Gryphon. Didn’t take you long, huh? Last year, it took you 30 minutes to arrive!” Gryphon felt the blood rise to her cheeks. She had been a new heroine then, and she hadn’t figured out how to use her tech yet.  
“Snapper, why are you back? You should know by now that you’re not gonna win this!”  
“Well, that’s a matter of opinion, huh?” Without missing a beat, he lunged at her, the relaxed muscles instantly tensing. She dodged to the side, gripping his mask and using it to smash his head into the concrete. He hissed, turning and scratching down her side with blades that extended from his knuckles. She jumped back a little too late, and the claws snagged in a joint of her armor. She rocketed into the air, punching and kicking at Snapper, who was fighting right back. She uppercut him, he kicked her. It was a deadly aerial dance. She saw an alley near the Richard Rogers theater, which they had flown to in their aerial battle, and cut her engines off. As they went down, she heard a little snick as Snapper’s claws caught something on her belt.  
“No!” She watched the remainders of her smoke bombs fell to the earth. Snapper watched them fall, and the smiling mask turned to her. The two crashed down in the alley, and Snapper pushed himself off of Gryphon. The extra force sent her to the pavement, and Snapper used her back to jump and roll. She bounced a little bit, eventually being stopped by the wall of the alley. Her visor was cracked, which was bad. Really bad. She now had no way to tell what weapons she had at her disposal, which was crucial in a fight. Despite it all, she groaned.  
“Seriously, dude? This is gonna take so long to fix…” The grotesquely smiling mask turned to her. The air crackled and shifted. Gryphon cast her gaze to the sky. Dark storm clouds were circling above the alley. Snapper looked apprehensive, both of them just staring at the sky. This was new and probably dangerous. Lightning cracked and thunder rolled, causing Snapper to cover where his ears would be and Gryphon winced. She tried to stand, but let out a cry and fell. Her leg was hurt, she didn’t know in what way, but it was hurt. Hurt enough so she couldn’t stand easily. Perfect. That would be fun to hide from the kids at school. The clouds lit up, and she had one second to react. Lightning arced down to meet them. She threw her arms over her face to help protect both it and the mask, and felt the ground shake. Opening her eyes and lowering her arms, she saw blinding white, then Snapper was sailing backward and there was someone in front of her. Their defensive stance was obvious. The ground trembled again, and her communications came back on. She winced as worried shouts from her sisters patched through, finally.  
“ELSIA! WHAT’S HAPPENING OVER THERE? PICK UP GOSH DANGIT!”  
“Sia, what’s wrong!! We heard Snapper was over there, what’s going on?”  
“Guys, Snapper is here, but so is someone else… He’s tiny, and appeared in a literal flash of lightning, right in front of me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my first ever fic posted on the Internet so be nice pls


	2. Chapter 2

“Wait, you almost got struck by lightning? Where are you guys?!?”  
“We’re in an alley by the Richard Rogers, I can’t walk.”  
“We’re gonna be there in five, don’t move!”  
Gryphon’s communications went quiet, and she jerked back a bit when she saw the lightning man directly in front of her. High cheekbones, a delicate nose, and glowing white eyes. His hair was puffed like a mad scientist’s, glowing a silvery-blue. She recognized the color as plasma, like in her science textbook. His skin was a gentle peach, the only natural color she could see.  
“Hey, are you okay?” His voice was soft, but the rumble of thunder underlay his words.  
She nodded, feeling her voice escape her. This was a superpowered individual, pretty much the first known in New York City. His mouth twisted into a smirk.  
“Good, cause I got some trash to take out.”  
As he stood, she noticed the silvery sleek armor, covering his whole body, other than his face. There were two clear bands on his arms, and a weirdly glowing light blue substance was in them. He had darker blue gloves and boots on, with a metallic silver sheen to them. The gloves were like what digital artists wore, covering his ring and pinky fingers. Snapper reappeared at the opening to the alley, and with a shock of realization Gryphon saw the scorch mark on the side of the mask, and a crack showing a hazel eye. A snarl was escaping the mask, and Lightning sighed.  
“You see, dude, when I see a Big Ugly Man and a presumably attractive young lady fighting, and then I see the BUM hurt the lady, that’s not exactly chivalrous, is it?”  
Snapper looked unnerved.  
“Who are you? This is my and Gryphon’s fight, not yours!”  
“Well, I was in a good mood, did you have to ruin it? The girl I have a crush on finally noticed me, and I was feeling great! But noOoOoO, you HAD to come along and disturb the peace!”  
While the man was running his mouth, the two had broken out into battle. Snapper landed a hit, then lightning man landed two. It was a one-sided battle, for the most part. At least, until Snapper snatched one of Gryphon’s fallen gas bombs, pressed the button, and flung it at the man. As soon as the cloud of gas touched the man, he backed up, coughing. The cloud reached Gryphon and she felt the suit’s air filter start running. When it cleared, Snapper was gone. With a whirr, the other two Birds of Myth landed in the alley. Lightning dude was crouched in the corner, coughing out the last of the gas.  
“Gryphon!” Her sister’s voices rang at the same time, Harpy running towards her and Sphynx following.  
When they saw the glowing man in the corner, Sphynx changed her course. Gryphon saw a news van, probably streaming live, roll in front of the alley. The lightning man was helped up by Sphynx, and Harpy picked Gryphon up. She yelped as she was lifted, and her leg hung in the air. She grit her teeth at the dull throb of pain when her leg lost its support. Looking at lightning man, his hair was sparking.  
“Guys, I gotta motor, stay gold!”  
Before he could leave, Gryphon called out.  
“Wait! What’s your name?” He looked back, the exposed skin on his face now glowing, almost like an LED light bulb that was about to explode.  
“Storm-Savvy.” Then he was gone, a bolt of lightning arching up to the clouds. As soon as he touched the clouds, they dispersed. Next to her, Harpy whistled.  
“He sure knows how to make an exit, doesn’t he?” Sphynx nodded, humming in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this so far, if this is even being read rn  
> If there's anything you want to see in this, drop a comment!  
> Hope yall enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: ABUSE MENTIONED IN THIS CHAPTER  
> STAY SAFE IF YOUVE BEEN THROUGH THIS/HAVE EXPERIENCED IT AT ALL

Alessander’s ratty sneakers pounded against the streets as he ran, turning corners and pumping arms. A stabbing pain radiated from his lower stomach region. He winced, but didn’t stop running. It had been a while since he’d used the skill, and it paid. He was late, and if he was lucky his dad wouldn’t be home yet. His older brother by 2 years, James Jr, was probably worried sick. Their dirty, old apartment building came into view, and he took the stairs two at a time, only stopping when he reached the door. Opening it, he saw that his dad’s shoes weren’t on the mat, and his posture relaxed a bit. The 15-year old slumped in relief, kicking his shoes off and walking to the kitchen, slipping the dead phone from his shoe to his pocket. It was his job to cook, and James Jr cleaned after dinner. Speaking of his brother, he heard someone breathing behind him. Grabbing a hunk of meat from the fridge, he quickly seasoned it and talked. His breath was still tight, which was odd.  
“Hey bro, how are you?”  
“Aless, have you taken your binder off at all today?” Alessander started, only just remembering the tight fabric across his chest, keeping it flat. James looked at his face and sighed.   
“Get the meat in the oven and take it off, Alessander. I don’t want you to be hurt, and you’re going to suffocate if you wear it for too much longer… Besides, you know that if Dad catches you with it on, you aren’t gonna have one anymore..”   
Aless froze at the mention of his dad. How could he have forgotten about that? His dad was a transphobe and a homophobe, and if he was caught Aless would lose the only roof above his head that he had. Quickly tossing the New York Strip into the oven, he dashed into his room. Pulling the shirt off, he slipped the binder off, a flash of dysphoria hitting him as the perfect womanly figure he never wanted was shown. Hiding the binder and slipping a sports bra on, his shirt was put on again and boom, he was James’ sister, ‘Alyssa’, now. He left the room and returned to the kitchen, getting the veggies and fruit cut and prepared. It was 30 minutes later that the oven dinged, and Aless wasted no time in yanking the meat out of the oven and putting it to rest on the counter. Letting it cool, he set the table and filled three glasses with water. He paused, remembering how his ‘dad’ worked, and slowly poured the water in two of the glasses down the drain and put them back in the cupboard. He felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder and turned. The sympathetic eyes met his own, and he attempted a half-hearted smile.   
“Alessander, it’ll be okay… I’m almost 18, and when I get out of here, you’re coming. We’re gonna get our own apartment, and you’re finally gonna be okay, got it?”   
Aless smiled at the reminder of their dream, which was James getting his apartment and himself finally escaping their foster dad. The two just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, until Aless finally broke away. He turned and cut the steak, doling a serving and some veggies and fruit onto one plate, leaving the other two blank. Hopefully, their foster dad would be in a good mood, and not drunk. It was kind of a 50/50 chance. The doorknob jiggled, and Aless’s breath caught in his throat. He only jiggled it like that if he had gone drinking with his friends. Normally he just unlocked it and opened the door. He was drunk. That really wasn’t good. He exchanged a glance with James and saw worry there.   
Aless watched the door, and his eyes caught a metal glint. There was an aluminum bat, by the door. He vaguely wondered how long they’d had that before the door swung open. The foster dad stumbled through the door, and Aless winced at the rank stench of whiskey and booze emanating from his figure. Behind him, James carefully grabbed two of the plates off of the table. They wouldn’t be eating tonight. Of course, it could be worse. So, because Aless’s life was like that, it got worse. James tripped over a chair leg and fell. A shout was ripped from his throat and the plates crashed to the floor, one breaking. The chair fell over too and the right-back leg popped off, clattering as it hit the floor. Aless went numb. He knew what would be coming soon. Their foster dad was frozen. James picked himself up, looking at the plates. A defiant glint came to his eyes, and he picked up the unbroken plate. Standing up, he looked the drunk man in the doorway in the eye and smashed the plate down, breaking it. A chilling silence fell over the home. And then, oddly quick for someone drunk, the foster dad turned and grabbed the bat. Aless’s blood ran cold, and it froze when the man smacked the bat menacingly against his palm. James made eye contact with the man.  
Alessander turned and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAH   
> I know these are pretty short, I'm so sorry! Yes, I put my characters through a lot. Am I sorry? Kinda, kinda not, depends on how much I like them.   
> I am not trans. I do not know anyone who is trans. If there is anything wrong with my portrayal of Aless being trans in a transphobic house, let me know so I can change this please  
> I was about to do a disclaimer about not owning the characters and then I remembered this is literally my own original work, so yes I do own these characters.   
> See yall around!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE WARNINGS FOR ABUSE/IMPLIED NON-CON  
> STAY SAFE ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLES

He dashed through the hall, getting to his and James' room. He shoved the door closed behind him and lodged the desk chair under the doorknob, flying across the room and curling up against the wall, opposite the door. It seemed like forever passed, as the sounds of fighting and grunts of pain echoed through the house. After what seemed like two eternities passed, a crack rang throughout the house. Aless froze, feeling everything seem to slow down. That was the sound of bone breaking. And his ‘dad’ had an aluminum bat… He swallowed, looking back at the door. A pound on it made him jump, and he paled as he heard the sound of metal hitting wood.  
“Alyssa, open the dang door!”   
That wasn’t James.   
The drunk pummeled the door, shouting at him to open the door. There was a window, behind Aless, but it was locked and their ‘dad’ had the key. If Aless broke it, he would have to pay.  
Of course….. Of course, he could just break the lock…  
Aless stood up, grabbing his binder out of the dresser, shoving the SB off and pulling the binder on. Feeling the familiar tightness against his chest grounded him, cementing the plan of escape in his mind. He went to the window and pulled on the lock, tugging and twisting, grimacing as it stayed tight. He wriggled it more, only stopping when the sound of broken wood sounded behind him, sharp pieces of wood flying past him and cutting into the skin on his back, neck, and arms. He froze, turning around, only to feel a large hand grab his neck and fling him onto the bed. He yelped as he landed, but couldn’t get off the bed fast enough. A meaty hand grabbed his small wrists and held them above his head, and another went around his neck. A knee across his thighs immobilized his legs. He shook, feeling the man loom above him. He knew what was probably coming. The pain from earlier throbbed again. His breath quickened, and he was barely aware of the familiar thrum of power under his skin, running through his veins. A snap rang through the room, and his dad reeled back. Aless was only aware of his foster dad’s hair standing straight up before he was at the window, tugging at the lock. It finally broke with a snick, and Aless wrenched it open.   
Jumping through, he felt his feet connect with the ground after a scary second in midair, and he started running. Ducking through the bushes, he ran down the street but stopped halfway down. His ankle sang out in pain, and he just had time to register the pain before he was crashing down onto the pavement. Blood trickled down his face from a cut on his forehead.   
Glancing around, he saw the door to his house, only 2 down the row, slam open. He looked around and swallowed. Run-limping, he scurried up the driveway to the house he was in front of and huddled on the porch, behind a bush. His back knocked into the doorbell as he hunkered down. He waited with bated breath, watching the street. Then a thumping, and the door behind him creaked open. Aless whipped around as quickly as possible, sudden terror driving his heartrate up. A woman had opened the door, looking around. Ice blue eyes, shining in surprise, bore into his own violet as she finally saw him. He recognized the woman at the door as Anya Schooner, the kind-of queen bee of the school.  
“Alessander? What are you doing here?” Aless froze. He realized the opportunity he was given. He would be stupid not to.  
“Anya, do you have somewhere I can hide? I need to get off the street.” Anya took a better look at him, and he saw her eyes flicker down his face, to his bruising neck, to the dark spots swelling on his wrist and the cuts from the broken wood on his face and arms.   
“Of course, come on in. I’ll get you some food, and some water, then you can tell us what the heck happened to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not curse. I know Aless's foster dad would, ideally, being drunk and all, be cursing up a storm. I, however, do not. So we have a weirdly clean-mouthed abusive jerk. Yay.  
> Drop a comment/kudo if you enjoyed this chapter!   
> See yall around!


	5. Chapter 5

Elsia watched Anya’s fluffy hair go down the stairs, the doorbell still ringing. She had no clue who wanted to come in, as her mom and dad were on a business trip in Sherwood, Ohio, investigating claims of a bomb threat. Her ankle was sore, so it was propped up as she and Mariah watched a movie, after dropping Elsia’s visor off at Erin’s house and getting a flood of angry texts and emojis. They had just started Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole, arguably the best cinematic masterpiece and CGI animated movie in the world, when the doorbell rang. Anya had sat up, muttered something and floated down the stairs. Elsia had looked at Mariah and shrugged, the two falling into comfortable conversation.   
At least, until they heard the door squeak shut. A loud voice, from downstairs:  
“Oh my gosh, you look even worse in the light!” Anya ran back up the stairs, orders coming out of her mouth.  
“Stay there, on the couch, I’m going to get bandages and antibacterial stuff, just sit still.” Elsia looked at her sister, confused.  
“Anya, what’s going on?”  
“Sia, I have no clue what happened, but Charlotte is bruised and bleeding, so go downstairs and get him water and a snack. Mariah, get washcloths and start wiping his arms and face down.”   
Elsia froze.   
Alessander was there, in her house, and he was in danger. She stood up and hobbled out of the room, balancing herself down the stairs. Her twisted ankle was getting on her nerves. She wanted a full range of motion, but the medicine to help the pain also had nausea, vomiting, dizziness, and a slight chance of death as side effects so she was good, thank you very much.   
Looking to the couch, she saw the mop of mocha brown hair that marked Alessander. His eyes were closed and the only real sign he was alive was the scarlet trickling down his face and the faint rise and fall of his chest. Mariah was sitting next to him, methodically drawing a damp towel over his face. The blanket that had been decorating the couch was on the floor, kicked halfway under the couch by Anya when he sat on it. She took a second to watch the fluttering of his eyelashes as he inhaled and exhaled and his nose scrunching as Mariah passed over an obviously tender spot before walking into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she furrowed her eyebrows. Anya had been supposed to get groceries the day before, but she obviously hadn’t.   
The fridge was empty. Elsia pursed her lips before closing the fridge and going to the cupboard. Her eyebrows raised as she saw the cupboard.   
She was 99.9% sure that cheese and yogurt didn’t go in a cupboard. Shaking her head, she grabbed a yogurt and a spoon. Putting it on the table by the couch, she hobbled back into the kitchen and grabbed a glass. Filling it with water, she put it next to the yogurt. Perching herself on the couch next to Alessander, she looked at his hand. It was limp, with little trickles of blood from the cuts on his arm dripping down to the fingers. Mariah was still focused on his face, but now she was focusing on his forehead, so there must have been a cut there. The back of his neck was also damp with water, so Mariah had already cleaned there. Reaching out, she paused for a second, before intertwining her hand with his.   
Their fingers slotted together, Elsia’s slightly thicker, shorter fingers beautifully contrasting with Aless’s slimmer, longer fingers. The warmth of blood seeped onto her palm, and she shuddered at the sensation. Mariah said something about getting another towel and disappeared up the stairs.  
His breathing seemed unnaturally tight for sleep, which worried Elsia. She knew that shortness of breath was dangerous. She also knew she had to check his chest, just to make sure everything was okay. Putting her ear to his heart, she was startled to find another layer of fabric under the shirt. It was thick, padded.  
A weird feeling started roiling in Elsia’s stomach, not unlike when Storm-Savvy had shown up that night. The feeling that something momentous was about to happen. She gently lifted his shirt, wanting to find the padding. What confronted her was a black top, not unlike a sports bra, covering Aless’ chest. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to find out what it was, and then they raised when she realized that it was a binder. She also knew it was unhealthy to sleep with a binder on, so she called upstairs while wiggling the binder off of the limp body.  
“Mar, can you get one of my sports bras and throw it to me? There’s a reason, I swear!”   
It was silent, then a lilac sports bra hit Elsia in the face. She huffed in surprise, before rolling her eyes and smiling. Looking at the binder in her other hand, she yelled back up the stairs:  
“Mariah, why’d you hit my face? I could’ve dropped my croissant!” From upstairs came a groan (Anya) and a howl of laughter (Mariah). Still grinning, she maneuvered Aless’s arms and slipped the SB on, taking a hot second to note the cuts on his back. It fit almost perfectly, maybe a little tight but it was nothing like the binder. Folding the black binder into quarters, she put it onto the table before glancing at Aless.   
Now, stereotypically, figuring out the dude she had a crush on was a transgender dude would have pretty much killed the crush, but it did the opposite. Like she said earlier, stereotypical. She admired him even more now, for having the strength to be able to do this and defy the world. Anya strode down the stairs, unnaturally light-footed and quiet. Her arms were full of various bandages and creams. She took the arm Elsia wasn’t holding the hand of and furrowed her eyes at the blood still covering that area.  
“Mar’s getting a new towel,” she offered in explanation. “the other one was dirty.” Anya nodded, before gently taking his chin in hand and tilting his forehead to the light. Whatever she saw was rough, if the low whistle she emitted was any indication of that. She squirted a dollop of antibacterial cream onto her finger and gently massaged it into the cut, taking care to not wake him up. When that was done, she ripped a bandage pack open with her teeth and placed a big square Band-Aid™ on his forehead. Giving it a gentle smack to help it stay on, she shifted to make room for Mariah, who had finally re-emerged with a towel. Mariah wiped down his arm, making sure to stay gentle, while Anya anti-bacterial creamed and bandaged the cuts. It was silent as they worked, no one willing to break the umbrella of quiet and risk waking their patient. Without speaking, Elsia shifted to the other side, only to be stopped by Mariah grabbing her wrist.  
“There’s blood on your hand.” The whisper from Mariah broke the silence oddly well for being so quiet. Elsia nodded and let Mariah wipe her hand down, the warmth of ruby liquid replaced with cool water. She grabbed Aless’s clean hand, clutching it gently to herself.   
“Mariah, there are cuts on his back too.” Her sister hummed in acknowledgement, shifting him so his face was pressed into Elsia’s stomach and she could access his back. Elsia squeaked, having not expected the sudden contact. A blush settled faintly on her cheekbones. It was her crush, in the room, laying on her! Of course he was unconscious and bleeding, but still! She started brushing his hair, feeling the silky mocha strands slip through her fingers. Losing herself in the soothing motion, she barely noticed when Anya put her hand on her shoulder and whispered that they were done. She gently pulled him up and to the side so he was resting on her side. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled a blanket up from the bottom of the couch, gently cocooning the both of them in warmth. Sitting there with Aless in her arms, she barely noticed when her own eyelids grew heavy and she joined Aless in the realm of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah this is a thing  
> Drop a comment/kudo if you enjoy the fic or want me to add something!  
> See yall around, you beautiful kiwis!


End file.
